Tricia, Lust, and I sneaked upstairs to Ferko's room in the middle of her party to prepare a surprise activity. In the midst of our loud and giggly operations, we heard a knock at the door.
"What are you girls doing in there? Let me in!"
It was a non-rugby guest at the party, a tattooed man with big baggy pants. Tricia took control of the door. "You can only come in here if you promise to do what we're doing!" Teehee. We snickered.
"Yeah, man, whatever. Let me in the room."
We swung the door wide. His face contorted in horror.
"Jesus! Yinz are f*@!ing insane! Let me out of here!" He fought for the door. Tricia held fast.
"You thought we had weed in here, didn't you! You did!"
He laughed hysterically.
"You promised to do what we are doing. Now put it on!"
And, so, we forced this stranger to squeeze his adult body into tiny little purple sequined shorts and a matching purple sequined tube top with feather trim. There, hiding in Ferko's bedroom, we crammed ourselves into my collection of elementary school dance recital outfits, complete with elbow gloves and frilly hats.
Lust chose the blue tutu getup while Tricia picked the opaque lavender leotard and flowy tunic. I strained the seams of the red sequined monotard with mesh stomach panel while the stranger pouted in my cousin's tap outfit from when she was seven. We almost had enough participants. Almost...
With three costumes to go, we bided our time until Dr. Parker and Jessie E and the men's team captain let their curiosity get the better of them. (Never again will they investigate the strange laughter from the upstairs room!)
Our cast complete, we took our pathetic parade of crushed velvet and neon spandex on tour through the house to announce the activity, finally succeeding in my lifelong dream.
We played Dance Dance Revolution in proper dancing attire. And we looked damn good.